My daughter eats flashlights. I have come to that conclusion after nearly a decade and a half of buying flashlights at every possible opportunity, and having them disappear into the black hole she calls her bedroom. When I finally have had enough and swamp out the pit, I find all sorts of flashlights - none with any working batteries, and many leaking some sort of toxic battery fluid.
Threats of great bodily harm make no difference to this child. I buy a flashlight, go to great lengths to hide it, and it disappears anyway. I should have learned my lesson by now, but sheesh! I do need a flashlight now and again.
So once again, I took the plunge and bought myself a mini-Mag Light (one of those cop flashlights in minature) from American Scientific. As I opened the box, DD's eyes lit up. "Is that for me?!?!"
"No, dammit. It's my flashlight, for once. Touch it, and you're toast!" I threatened. She just laughed, but made no attempt to swipe it.
A short while later, Bob came in from work. He saw the flashlight and sighed. "I bet you bought that thing so you can bead around it, huh?" he said.
I told him that I hadn't thought of beading it, but thanked him for the idea. That way, I could identify my flashlight, and there would be a reduced chance that he would steal it from me. (The child got her tool-stealing gene from her father)
He snorted. "A pink beaded flashlight might deter me, but you know the kid. Don't even waste your time, it'll be gone before you know it."
Sadly, I conceded that he is probably right. I expect that the day after she leaves home for good, I'll find a truckload of good scissors, flashlights, hairbrushes and chapsticks. In the meantime, I'm doomed.
Kathy N-V